


Pain can be endured

by TheRamblingsOfaMadWoman



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: Drug Use, Graphic descriptions of violence, Swearing, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23430781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRamblingsOfaMadWoman/pseuds/TheRamblingsOfaMadWoman
Summary: Author’s ramblings : This is set S3 around ep 8. What if before Theodore Swift waltzed into his daughter's life he decided to try and gather information about her and what she has been up to. And who better to ask than the man that stole her away, Matthew Judge. Contains torture and drugs.





	1. Held captive

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: torture, drug use, graphic descriptions of violence.

Chapter 1

Writer’s ramblings: Similar to my other fanfictions this story contains torture as well as drug use. 

Jackson left his dead room, making his way past Artherton and into the cold night. He lit a cigarette and let his tired feet carry him home. His fingers started to go pink from the cold but he was too tired to care. He kept cracking his knuckles and wiggling his fingers so they did not go too numb. As he turned the corner he felt a flood of relief go through him. He could see his home and almost feel the blankets around his aching body. A fist blocked his view as it collided with his right cheek, then another fist came into sight, this time on his left. With his body reacting on instinct his hands came up to protect his face but the fists started to punch him in the gut. A foot hit the back of his knee and he was suddenly kneeling. The cold, wet ground seeping into his clothes. Using his hands to break his fall only meant that his attackers were able to kick him in the chest. He felt blood run down his face and his vision swam slightly. They kicked and stomped until he was lying in the fetal position. He was in too much pain to call for help.  
One of the people knelt down in front of him while the other started stomping on his knee, part of Jackson was asking why they did not just kill him. The other part was trying to recognize the face now centimeters from him.  
“Hello Mr. Judge. You have been a bad man again and this time Theodore will not let you get away so easily” the man flashed a wicked smile, his yellow teeth rotting in his mouth. Suddenly Jackson knew his attacker, a man he had known from a long time ago, one he had not particularly liked. There was a crack and a scream tore itself out of Jackson’s throat, the second attacker had achieved his goal and finally broken his knee cap.  
“There he cannot get anywhere now” the man's voice was familiar to Jackson, the underlying accent, but his mind would not focus on people from his past instead all he could focus on was the pain emanating from his knee.  
“Hurts like a bitch does it. Now you just go to sleep we'll take care of everything” Jackson felt someone come up behind him, someone new, he willed his body to turn over so he could face the new threat but his body would not react. He felt a sting of pain as a needle entered a vein in his neck, the liquid was pushed into his blood stream and darkness soon followed.


	2. Theodore Swift

Jackson slowly regained consciousness for a moment he thought he had had a bad dream had fallen out of bed, that explained the hard, uncomfortable floor beneath him and the way that his leg throbbed, did it not? Then his brain caught up and the series of events slotted into place. He remembered being dragged to a vehicle, how it jostled him as it made its way through the streets. The room he was in he did not remember entering they must have given him more of the drug. He felt the side of his neck and sure enough there were 2 raised lumps. He hated needles and they hated him, he always got red lumps where they entered his skin. It must look like he was bitten by a vampire. Tentatively he moved his body bit by bit. He started with his hands but soon realized they were chained; his left wrist was engulfed by a metal handcuff that had chain attached to it. The chain ran across the floor and into the corner, Jackson could just about make out an iron ring protruding from the ground. He found the same had been done to his right wrist, the chains were loose enough to allow his hands to meet but that was it. In blind panic Jackson started pulling on the chains with all his strength, he pulled and pulled until the iron rubbed his wrists raw and the chains cut his palms.   
Trying desperately to catch his breath and control himself Jackson tried to assess the damage done to his knee. He looked down at his left leg and even in the dim lighting could see the way his knee bent at an awkward angle. He put his legs together and realized that his injured knee had almost doubled in size. It did not bode well swelling usually meant a bone was broken. A loud clang made him jump, his reward was a sharp pain to the chest, one of his ribs was fractured. A groan escaped him as he tried to reposition himself.  
“I always told Caitlin that you were weak” A voice said, Jackson looked in the direction the voice had come from. It was then he realized how small the room was, it was completely unfurnished and had no windows. It was similar to the one they found Matilda Reid in except from the fact that the paintings of butterflies and fairies were replaced with splatters of blood. Jackson looked through the barred door at the face of a man he despised with every fiber of his being.  
“Hello Theodore, long time no see” he smiled slightly when he saw the old man look at him like he was something repulsive, it brought back memories of when he had first started courting the love of his life.   
“Do you know why you are locked away?” Theodore asked, the gleam in his eye gave away that he was enjoying seeing Jackson so helpless. “You are here because my daughter has somehow managed to get her grubbing little hands on my money. This is not so much a problem, more of an annoyance really, but what I want to know is where she has hidden it?”  
Jackson felt his heart constrict he had hoped that Theodore was blind to his daughter’s affairs and had kidnapped him for the fun of it. The truth of the matter was that even though Best had filled Jackson in on Susan’s thievery he had no idea where the money would be and even if he did, he would not endanger her life by giving the information away.  
“What makes you think I know anything about that? It is your money, is it not, should you not know where it is?” Jackson decided there and then that he would play the fool and act as if he knew nothing, which was not far from the truth. He knew that Theodore would not hesitate to hurt him or even kill him, he just hoped that someone would realize he was missing before that time came.  
“I am not a fool Matthew, you and my daughter are lovers. If she was to tell anyone of her secrets, it would be you” the way he said ‘lovers’ with such hate and spite sent a chill up Jackson’s spine. This man had more pent up anger and rage than he imagined.  
“Have you not heard, Susan and myself are estranged” He deliberately used Susan’s preferred name. To him Caitlin was not her name but instead a kind of swear word that he used only when it was needed, for it held a lot of meaning to both of them. In return she only used Matthew when she wanted him to get angry or mad.   
“Estranged, hm now that is interesting” Theodore rubbed his gloved hand over his chin, a motion Jackson knew meant that he was thinking and considering something, no good could come of it. The other hand rested on his cane his fingers moving over it as if, if he was not holding the cane that hand would be wrapped around Jackson’s throat.   
"I am glad that my daughter finally came to her senses and left you in the gutter where you belong. It makes sense now why she has managed to climb up the ladder and make a name for herself… she no longer has you slowing and dragging her down”  
Jackson tried not to linger on Theodore’s words he had seen first-hand how, since their separation, Susan had managed to find a castle for herself and she had made it her own. She had flourished without him by her side and in a way he was happy for her but it was painful to know that all the years they spent together she could have been so much happier without him.   
Jackson shifted slightly biting his tongue to stop himself from yelping at the pain shooting through his body. Banging and crashing from outside the door made his heart skip a beat he had been hoping that the torture would not begin until tomorrow. He had barely dealt with the beating he had already received. Two men came into the room carrying a table between them. It looked like a table Jackson would set up when he was about to autopsy someone or in his case torture them.   
“Where is my money Jackson?” Theodore walked to just in front of his captive. Jackson felt like a small child about to be told off for something he did not even do. Theodore’s eyes never left Jackson’s face.  
“Where did you last see it?” Jackson replied with a crocked smile, Theodore’s response was to bring the cane down across his shoulder. Jackson’s scream resounded around the room.   
“I am going to ask once more before I let my men here see if they can persuade you” Jackson could barely look at the old man, tears were streaming down his face, he kept his head to the side not wanting Theodore to see his weakness. When Jackson did not respond Theodore started to make his way to the door.  
“I will be back to see you tomorrow. Let us hope that my men can loosen your tongue.” As Theodore left another man entered, in one hand he had a gun in the other a brief case. Jackson prepared himself for the torture ahead.


	3. Toture devices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This includes graphic depictions of torture and pain and blood.

“Now Mr. Judge let us get started” the briefcase was laid on the floor next to Jackson the man opened it to reveal medical equipment. Jackson recognized most of it and he rather wished he was oblivious. “I am Doctor White, I am here to ensure that you do not pass out from what my friends are going to do to you. That sedative should have worn off by now, I hope you enjoy the experience of my drugs Mr. Judge, they are of my own creation and made to have a lot of different effects. For now lets make sure that you do not pass out” as he was speaking he was rummaging in his briefcase and he brought out a vile labelled adrenaline, everyone knew what that was, Jackson’s heart started beating faster at the sight of it.   
“You know giving me that when I am in pain and have been recently sedated could…”  
“Could kill you, I know Mr Judge but do not let the label fool you, there is much more than adrenaline in this vile” Jackson watched the needle come close to his leg, he kicked out and tried to grab the bastard in front of him, to his shame it was not a valiant effort. The needle sunk into his leg and the results were immediate. His heart felt as though it would beat out of his chest, the pain increased ten-fold but worse was the way the world focused to his new reality. The doctor stood up with the briefcase making his way to the back of the room, perching on a stool in the corner, taking out a note pad and pen. He waved his hand at the other men, one instantly picked up a scalpel. Part of Jackson’s brain was focused on moving away from the metal knife the other part wanted to berate the man for holding it in such a brute like fashion. He squatted next to Jackson’s face slowly he pressed the scalpel to his cheek watching with curiosity as blood seeped out to meet the metal. He did it again to his neck, Jackson hissed in pain.   
“Fuck off you bastard!” he snapped trying to punch the man, his arm did not move, he tried again but again nothing. He looked down at his arm, he thought it had not sustained any damage.   
“That would be the effect of the adrenaline I gave you, also a paracletic, very effective. Just sit back and enjoy how the adrenaline lets you feel the excruciating pain” the doctor spoke as if speaking to a patient that would not sit still for an examination not to a man who could not defend himself against two brutes whose only purpose was to hurt him. He saw rather than felt the scalpel travel down his right arm. The other brute had pulled out a knife watching it as he twirled it in his hand. He looked as comfortable with it as Jackson did a gun which scared him.  
As the knife was plunged into his gut Jackson instinctively screamed even though he could not feel any pain. His scream brought a wicked grin to his tortures faces and he tried not to make a sound as the scalpel was stabbed into his chest.  
“Not too close to the lungs” piped up the doctor from the back of the room. Part of Jackson was thankful he had stopped the brutes from accidently killing him the other part wanted them to kill him so that it would be over faster. Then he thought of Susan and a new wave of determination passed over him. He had drifted for no more than a few minutes into his own mind and staring at the doctor but when he stared down at himself again he was shocked to see the blood soaking his shirt. The knife disappeared and was replaced by a gun. Jackson hadn’t heard a shot so he assumed it hadn’t been fired… yet.  
As if reading his mind the brute turned the gun to face him, holding it a mere few centimeters from his face. Grinning as the barrel pressed against his temple hard enough to bruise.  
“Bang!” he did not flinch so the brute tried it again this time holding the gun to his cheek, “BANG!” he spat in Jackson’s ear. With a disappointed look he aimed at Jackson’s foot, bang. A real bullet left the gun and ripped its way through skin, bone and muscle. His body reacted trying to flinch and move away. He did not give them the satisfaction of screaming again. Jackson watched as the gun was pointed at his head, he held his breath. Staring down at the barrel of the gun he watched as the gun fired again the bullet lodged itself into the wall beside his head. His ear started ringing he could feel the blood dropping down his neck.   
“My turn!” the excitement in his voice made Jackson’s heart beat faster. These bastards were actually enjoying this in every case he had ever worked Reid and Drake always apprehended the killer and they always had a reason even if it was a sick reason. These men did not seem to have a reason, they were torturing him when he did not even scream out. He couldn’t even defend himself. His attacker dropped to his knees next to him, Jackson watched as he grinned taking a switch blade out of his pocket. He even stroked the blade before he pressed it into his forearm. The doctor abruptly moved from his position at the back of the room.   
“Careful, if you hit an artery…”  
“He will die… blah blah! I get it doc, let me have my fun” this was fun. This was his idea of fun pressing the blade into someone’s skin just to see the blood pour out. Jackson’s stomach felt sick just thinking of all the torture these men had inflicted on others, but then could he really hold himself in a higher standard than these two men? He was after all in a war where he stepped over mutilated bodies on a daily basis and maimed bodies of men who were still alive to try and fix them as best he could. When he finally got home, he turned his hand to cutting people up. Although he found both professions to be noble and could never imagine himself turning his hand to anything else, he couldn’t not argue with the fact that many other people would find his skills macabre and would think he was disturbed.   
“Hey!” Jackson felt his head whip to the side he clenched his teeth as his brain rattled in his skull as it collided with the wall. He did not see the fist come down on him again just felt the faint crack and pop of his cheek bone as it fractured.   
“Gentlemen please” the doctor knelt in front of Jackson gripping his arm. It was the first time since the initial cut to his skin that he had looked at his arm. He could not bring himself to react to the cuts covering his arm and the blood weakly pumping out of the various slits in his skin. The doctor fiercely grabbed his arm tutting at the 2 men.   
“Oh come on doc let us have our fun and we will let you have yours” the tone of the man was more like a petulant child than a violent psychopath.   
“We have to leave him to bleed and heal before you continue. Remember what Swift said, he cannot die too soon” the use of the word soon sent a shiver down his spine, or at least it would have if he could feel his skin or his spine. Abruptly the doctor stood up and walked over to his bag of horrors. He pulled a vile and syringe out, part of Jackson’s mind knew that he should care what was being plunged into him but the other part just wanted peace and quiet.  
“Ahhhh!” the scream he emitted shocked himself, whatever was the syringe was now burning a path through his veins. He still couldn’t move, his body wouldn’t respond to his desperate need to get away from the pain, to move, to run away, to lash out. He was a prisoner in his own body so he did the only thing he could he screamed again.   
“It’s of my own making, very powerful. You will be able to move again soon. You will also heal slightly, enough to keep you alive.” With that the three men left, one of the brutes gave him a kick for good measure, Jackson could feel the burning pain blossoming from the sight of the kick all the way through his leg. He bit his tongue until he could taste blood, he would not give them the satisfaction of screaming again. The clang of the metal door shutting sent a jolt through him but also relief.


End file.
